So, say hi, Alex! Here you can see the haircut I gave him on Sunday, a haircut that required Mike to hold him in a headlock while I trimmed his legs and paws.
"SIT! STAY!" I'd command uselessly, as Alex panted and flailed, apparently equating "grooming" with "fate worse than death."
I even held a treat between my teeth and made that noise that Cesar makes when he's trying to show a dog who's boss, thinking I could hypnotize him into behaving.
Focus on the treat, Alex! You're feeling veeeeery obedient.... veeeeery obedient!
(I mean, I've seen Flip Orley perform four times- at the very least I should be a moderately funny hypnotist by now)
(Which, I just had a GREAT idea. Do you think Flip would be my doula the next time I give birth? I couldn't think of anything better than being under hypnosis and laughing hysterically through hours of contractions! Throw in a margarita and I'll call it a VACATION.)
This is the fourth time I've groomed Alex at home. I've groomed my dogs in the past, but when we adopted Alex I decided that there are some things I'm willing to pay someone else to handle. Climbing a ladder three stories above the street to paint the trim on my house, for example, or- YES- grooming my black dog in the suffocating heat and humidity of August.
But when you're trying to save money and a grooming table and a decent set of clippers will pay for themselves in six months, well, you buck up and get hairy.
The only thing we continue to pay for is having his nails trimmed. Alex has black nails, and I can't see where the quick is, and I'm terrified of hurting him. So I'm happy to pay $10 for that until I can work up the courage to bust out my Dremel.
Which I will.
He's got beautiful soft, shiny fur, by the way, and I have a whole bag of it. Anyone want to make a sweater? Should I try to sell it on eBay??
This morning I was talking with Mike about a play date Lion had earlier in the week.
Liz: I asked if she'd taken Lila to the library, but she said she hadn't because Lila doesn't grasp the concept of the "inside voice" yet.
Liz: I said, well, Lion can be the loudest kid on the planet, but we stay in the children's section and I don't think it bothers anyone. Plus, at that library they have a soundproof quiet room, so if someone really objects to the noise, they can always go in there.
Mike: I hate those quiet rooms. It's creepy when you're in there with a bunch of people, but no one's talking.
Liz: That's because you're an extrovert. You have this urge to chat with everyone and ask, "Hey! How's it going? What are you reading? Do you like it?" People like me LOVE quiet study rooms. Having complete silence was the only way I could study when I was in college and grad school.
Mike: See, that's weird. I always had to have the radio on, or I couldn't concentrate. Silence drives me nuts.
Liz: It's amazing that we ever got together.
Mike: Opposites attract.
Liz: In college I used to hole up in the tiny study carrels in those creepy stacks in the middle of the library, where there were no windows and it was completely deserted. I could study in there all day and never see a single person. I mean, someone could have ATTACKED me or KILLED me and no one would have known!
Mike: Right. Once you got past that, it was great.
Liz: It was. Totally great.